


Half of what I say is meaningless

by UlsPi



Category: The Witcher (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Human, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - No Powers, Autistic Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia, Good Parent Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia, Good Parent Jaskier | Dandelion, Idiots in Love, M/M, Protective Jaskier | Dandelion, Soft Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-30
Updated: 2020-09-07
Packaged: 2021-03-06 21:13:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,244
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26195446
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/UlsPi/pseuds/UlsPi
Summary: Jaskier is Ciri's nanny, Geralt falls too fast and too hard, everyone wants to be happy.
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion
Comments: 19
Kudos: 86





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Please, be kind to me.   
> The title is from the Beatles "Julia"

Renfri had caught more sex offenders than  _ anyone ever _ . She was an avenging angel in the body of a short, graceful woman wearing a police uniform. Geralt had been working with her forever. Renfri never stopped, never rested, trained many a rookie, put many a monster away, perfected the profiling technique, while Geralt followed her like a silent and menacing shadow. He was just as clever and cunning as Renfri, but since only Renfri knew that, Renfri put herself in charge of his career. She ended up the commissioner of police of the Metropolis. Along the way Geralt, a mountain of a man, broad-shouldered, white-haired, handsome but taciturn and quiet, scary to the point where even people who had known him for years took a step back when Geralt entered any room, ended up leading the Dog Support Unit. Renfri could handle and manhandle people - Geralt felt much better with dogs. Renfri often remarked that Geralt's dogs were much more empathetic and professional than many a trainee she had met. Geralt's favourite was a very old Malinois by the name of Roach. She was a wise creature, probably immortal, since no one could remember her being a puppy. 

***

Yennefer worked in forensics. She was beautiful and ambitious. She asked Geralt out one day, and before long they were living together. Geralt had trouble expressing his feelings, he had trouble accepting he had feelings, but Yennefer didn't seem to mind. That is, until Yennefer whispered to him one night: "Say you love me."

Geralt froze in bed. He thought Yennefer could see him and understand him. With horror and shame he realised that he had come to rely on Yennefer in the same way he had always been relying on Roach, which he saw as a compliment to Yennefer, but he knew all too well that she wouldn't see it that way. He swallowed. 

"Marry me?" He grunted meekly. 

Yennefer agreed, albeit reluctantly. 

They never made it to the wedding, of course. Yennefer was smart enough to see that Geralt desperately wanted to please her and was just as desperately unhappy with his efforts or the need for them. She cancelled the wedding. Geralt cried through the night and begged for her forgiveness. She caressed his long white hair and told him he was a good man, that they just had never been meant to be. They became much better friends than lovers. Yennefer remained very fond of him.

***

Geralt and Yennefer had been together for a little less than a year when Yennefer first mentioned her desire to become a mother. For all his difficulties with feelings and the expression of thereof, Geralt loved children, so he was on and in. Yennefer was infertile. And Yennefer should have known better when she demanded it from Geralt to say just three little words. 

Renfri yelled as much at Yennefer afterwards.

"So, let me get this gay, he stayed with you at your lowest, he was ready to marry you, and you just couldn't forgive him his lack of communication?"

"Hey, Renfri, you wouldn't want it for yourself!" Yennefer retorted. She could be scary too, after all.

"Exactly! So I never asked him out! Geralt is so much better and more than this… the sexiest porn star image! You're smart, Yen!"

"Well, he  _ is  _ adorable."

Perhaps somewhere out there one could find a person who would mock Geralt for training dogs that dug up the bodies and drugs Renfri and Yennefer investigated, but for sure Renfri and Yennefer knew how to appreciate a good dog. 

***

Calanthe was the legend of the counterintelligence. She truly was. Geralt worked with her for a bit once Renfri's crusade against human predators had become too much for him. He wouldn't know it of course, so Renfri sort of pushed him into Calanthe's firm and unethical hands. 

Geralt was a brilliant analyst, but the depths of human depravity and lack of empathy proved to be too hard for him to digest, especially after discovering said depths and lack working by Renfri's side, so he left Calanthe, but remained a family friend. 

Calanthe's daughter Pavetta followed her mother's career path. Alas, she couldn't be unbiased and impartial, like her mother. She fell in love with the head of a terrorist group, the feelings were mutual, and for about two minutes everything seemed to be happy and dreamy. Pavetta and Duny were killed soon after their daughter was born, which was followed by Calanthe single-handedly murdering quite a lot of people and dying of her wounds. Eist, Calanthe's faithful husband, died alongside his wife. Geralt, as it turned out, had been named Cirilla's legal guardian. 

Geralt accepted it like he had accepted everything - quietly, with unbreakable dignity and no words. 

Yennefer proved to be an incapable parent - and she was the first to admit to it. Geralt didn't care that much, he had no time to care much. He had to find a babysitter. Yennefer secured him a great deal on a nice townhouse, decorated the nursery, made sure Geralt's fridge was full of dog food, baby food and, just because she genuinely loved him, some Geralt food as well. Yennefer baby-proofed the house too and had Triss work with Roach on the topic of a tiny human pulling at Roach's tail. Triss was Geralt's favourite student and turned out to be the love of Yennefer's life.

And as for the babysitter, he turned up at Geralt's door one morning. He insisted on being called Jaskier.

Geralt and Yennefer, sleep-deprived and as far from any notion of romance as humanly possible, greeted him. He was a moveable feast - joyous, giddy, enthusiastic, with incredible blue eyes and impeccable recommendations. He studied music, music therapy, early childhood education, Greek and Latin, Medieval literature and so forth. He managed to calm Ciri down immediately, and therefore he was hired immediately. 

Apropos of nothing, Geralt mentioned to Yennefer as she was leaving that day, that Jaskier was a very handsome man. Yennefer rolled her eyes. 

***

Jaskier wanted very few things from his life, which were his lute, a child to take care of and the most romantic affair ever. Somehow one foggy London morning he ended up in possession of all three. His lute had been with him when he knocked on Geralt's door, Ciri was the most precious child on the face of the planet, and Ciri's taciturn father seemed to be the most incredible, fantastic, irreproachable creature Jaskier had met - and Jaskier had met a fair amount of peculiar people, all of whom had found him delightful. He was a late child of a wealthy couple, who spoiled him and let him do whatever he wanted, which was why Jaskier had been studying for ten years, jumping between colleges and faculties. No matter how truly brilliant he was, Jaskier tended to find particular pleasure in having things his way, i.e. by charming everything and everyone. Jaskier knew he was perfect, but he thought it would be much more entertaining to become a nuisance. Anyone could be smart, talented and what not, but only special people could get away with every mischievous enterprise of theirs, and so Jaskier had his own timetable, his own deadlines and rather enthusiastic approval of everything he did. 

***

Jaskier quickly learned that trying to talk to Geralt was a hopeless affair. To Geralt's surprise, the discovery didn't make Jaskier bitter or angry. On the contrary, he became even brighter and louder. He never stopped chattering or singing or humming… 

Geralt found it unexpectedly endearing. He had never met someone like Jaskier, although Geralt doubted there had ever been someone like Jaskier - so full of joy, of words, of love, of music, of ideas about Ciri's games and menu. He cooked for them all - something healthy and colourful for Ciri, something nourishing and comforting for Geralt, something fancy and experimental for Yennefer and Triss, who came by almost every day. Jaskier lingered after Ciri's parents returned home and chatted endlessly. He couldn't understand Yennefer's fond exasperation about Geralt's manner of speech - all  _ hmmms _ and an occasional  _ fuck _ which was now replaced with  _ fern _ . In short time Jaskier discovered he could be very angry. However scary Yennefer was, Jaskier proved to be even more so, since one would expect the goth queen Yennefer to be furious about everything and nothing, but the ray of sunshine that was Jaskier couldn't be expected to turn into a wildfire. 

"So, Geralt, how do you expect your daughter to learn to speak if you never do yourself? I still can't believe you were named her guardian!" Yennefer said one evening. Ciri was playing with Geralt, or rather was climbing all over Geralt's broad shoulders and back and legs, to Geralt's taciturn delight. 

There was no spite to Yennefer's words, she did love Geralt, but Jaskier's hands trembled over the teapot, and he sharply turned to Yennefer. "Will you please stop with that? Trust me, words aren't the only way to communicate, especially if you make an effort to understand someone! You, with your intolerance and smugness, are a far worse influence in Ciri's life!" 

Yennefer rose from her seat and glared at Jaskier. He seemed frightened, but unwavering. Roach stood next to Jaskier and let out a low growl. She'd never been particularly keen on Yennefer, but to side with someone other than Geralt...

"It's alright," Geralt managed, taking Jaskier's hand. "She… she means well. I know it."

Yennefer and Triss looked at Geralt puzzled. 

"I don't care," Jaskier was still fuming. "It's unfair. It's ugly. You really don't want to be ugly, do you, Yennefer? Not after all the effort and surgeries you've gone through…"

"That's cruel," Yennefer replied, her wrath suddenly disappearing. "What did you do? Spy on me?"

"No, I'm just smart!" Jaskier stormed out of the room and the house.

"He is," agreed Triss, pulling Yennefer to sit next to her once again. "He does notice everything. It doesn't bother him, love." She kissed Yennefer, and Geralt quickly looked at the floor. "You can be very rude, darling."

Ciri realised that Jaskier had left and threw a tantrum. Yennefer called him and demanded he'd come back, which he immediately did. Roach kept howling until Jaskier burst inside and grabbed Ciri with one arm and Roach's head with the other. 

***

Being with Yennefer always felt like an adventure. Everything was a surprise, everything was unexpected. Yennefer loved surprises and wanted Geralt to love them too. Geralt made himself tolerate them. He cared about Yennefer, she made him as happy as he had known how to be, although he felt calmer and warmer with the dogs - and lately, with Jaskier. 

Jaskier never dragged Geralt to a supermarket, but he had made a point of  _ Ciri doesn't need to go grocery shopping and you must hate it, Geralt, so how about you two go and enjoy the swings over there and I'll do the rest? _

And Geralt obeyed and went to the swings. As time went by, Ciri began to tell him that  _ Jaskier had taken me to this playground, and it was so much fun, and I met that boy, Dara, and he doesn't speak, just like you, daddy, and Jaskier said that it's alright and I should be more attentive, but then he said I was a natural, and we had ice cream with Dara and his mom, and Dara's mom smiled at Jaskier all the time, and I can't blame her, Jaskier is so funny! _

Jaskier would return loaded with bags. Geralt would take at least half of them from Jaskier. 

Roach preferred Jaskier to take her out. Yennefer, when she heard about it, remarked:

"You're too much of a hermit even for your dog."

***

Geralt didn't do feelings. What the others called feelings. Words seemed to be inappropriate for what he felt, and he didn't like the mouthfeel when he spoke. He'd speak, though, to get something he wanted - the softness and tender care of Yennefer's touch, the giddy laughter at what she called Geralt's antiques… 

People required words, Geralt had learned that early enough. Renfri didn't need words and neither did Roach. Calanthe and Pavetta didn't need words. But Geralt wanted to  _ say _ things, to show how much he cared. It came out clumsily, silly.

"You're an idiot," came out of Geralt's mouth when he caught Jaskier scowling at his Instagram while the stew was simmering. Geralt was scared of Jaskier's reaction - but the younger man laughed and replied: "I am, rather. I'm just jealous of that guy… he seems to have it all, but he works for it… I'd never lick just someone's arse, you know? I'm better than that!" 

***

Geralt watched him as he was walking down the street from the station, a hop, a spring to his step. The sun and the air, the hour, the movement, every physical criterion possible - over there, over Jaskier, all careless and beautiful and made to be loved and cherished. 

He crossed the street, he unlocked the door. 

"Hello, my dear Geralt. I believe I'm right on time. Off you go to be a hero!" Jaskier petted Roach, went upstairs to take Ciri in his arms and fix her for the morning. Somewhere along the way Geralt got a cup of coffee pushed into his hands and a croissant sandwich pressed into his mouth, Ciri was smiling, Jaskier was singing… 

There were Jaskier's hands on the sides of Geralt's face. "Take care, Geralt, we'll be fine. Just you come back to us."

***

Jaskier loved how Geralt never talked too much, and yet Jaskier understood him from the start. Jaskier loved understanding him. Geralt was beautiful, handsome, sexy, anything, but mostly Geralt was tender and attentive and eternally uncomfortable with feelings. Jaskier, on the other hand, was far too comfortable with those. He harvested them. He saved them and sang them. What could the poets of the old offer against Ciri's smile or Geralt's care? 

Jaskier came to think that people let too much be carried over with words. Language allowed too many people to be liars. 

So, there came Geralt, quiet, a conch, a shell of a man, and Jaskier, who had always admired a good love confession, longed for a different admiration, for something unconventional.

He took Ciri to a playground, consulted Dara's mom about various therapists, told her to curse every neurotypical specialist and referred her to a few neurodivergent folks of his own acquaintance. He balanced Dara's and Ciri's needs, brought them together, cooked and talked and sang - he was absolutely worn out by the end of it, but so was Ciri and so was Dara, and that was the only thing important. 

***

Jaskier and Ciri came to meet Geralt a few times. They weren't intrusive, no, never, but they stood there, calm and giddy and claiming every beat of Geralt's heart. 

The first time it happened Geralt frowned - and just like a forest lake, always ready to mirror the sky, Jaskier's bright face was clouded over with concern.

"I take it you're not a fan of surprises… my bad. Sorry." As Jaskier spoke he rearranged the buggy where Ciri was excitedly babbling something to Geralt, so that the girl faced her father and not the endless hussle of the street. Her little face grounded Geralt, but even more grounding was the way Jaskier stood by his employer and looked at him, as if waiting for an instruction, which never came. 

Geralt was yearning to hold the younger man close, but it would imply talking, asking for permission, voicing out his needs, and at the end of the day Geralt tended to become mostly non-verbal, especially with all the stress and changes of the past year. 

They went home. Jaskier made dinner. No one demanded any actual talking from Geralt, and then Jaskier was gone, off into the bright lights and big city. Geralt felt emptier than a broken bottle. 


	2. Chapter 2

Geralt invited Jaskier to join him and Ciri during their visit to a nearby hippotherapy centre where Geralt felt much more at home than at Scotland Yard. The invitation was meant to be friendly and casual but was as forced and awkward as the previous sentence. 

Jaskier accepted with a soft smile - and carefully touched Geralt's forearm. "I'd love to, Geralt. Thank you." He smiled even wider and was out of the door the next moment. 

Geralt felt so uncomfortable in his own skin he absolutely had to shake himself, flinch his shoulders. Jaskier was bright, happy, smiling, delightfully and somewhat stupidly optimistic. For every instance of the world's cruelty and injustice, Jaskier would find a counter-example of the world being full of love, kindness and all that. Geralt sighed. 

***

Jaskier didn't like horses, not one bit, but he adored the feeling he got next to Geralt. It was a precious mixture of fragility and infinite power. He felt calm and warm next to Geralt, he felt powerful and protective next to Geralt - not to mention Ciri whom Jaskier felt connected to in an unprofessional way, but who cared? Jaskier was full of love, had always been so, and his overflowing heart was hungry for love, for being allowed to shower someone in it… Not someone. Geralt. Grumpy, silent, golden-hearted Geralt, so handsome, so lonely, so clueless about everything connected to custom and convention. 

Jaskier felt proud and giddy when he slid into Geralt's car on a Saturday. Ciri was singing and babbling, Geralt was - unknowingly - humming along, and Jaskier was elated. Roach had to carry the burden of his affection but didn't seem to mind Jaskier's constant scratching behind her ears. 

Ciri, being Geralt's child (oh why did that thought made Jaskier's heart a dancer?), showed no fear when she walked over to a horse like she owned her, and demanded  _ dada  _ to lift her  _ immly  _ (that is  _ immediately _ ). Geralt sat behind her. His flawless grace, his ease and calmness made Jaskier swoon and forget he was afraid of any animal bigger than Roach. Before Roach he was afraid of every animal bigger than a cat, so that was some serious improvement. 

Jaskier watched Geralt and Ciri ride, cheered them and filmed them. Ciri laughed, Geralt grinned, Jaskier grinned at them both and even spared a smile to the horse, who was too old for this shit.

And then Geralt grabbed Jaskier's hand and said, with much conviction, that Jaskier  _ absolutely had to ride a horse _ .

The following moment Jaskier felt Geralt's wide and sure hands grab his waist and lift him easily onto the horse's back. 

"Don't worry, I'm here," Geralt said. Ciri was on his shoulders, giggling and singing along to one of the many songs Jaskier had written for her. Geralt held the reins and started to walk the horse slowly around the enclosure. Jaskier had forgotten every other thought, apart from the fact, no, a startling realisation that he had a family. That he'd kill anyone who'd hurt them. That he didn't care about Geralt's inability, no, perceived inability, to speak his mind. What was so hard there after all? The man looked at Jaskier every few steps, asked him how he felt just as often, while  _ their daughter  _ seemed to be having the time of her life - and who wouldn't have, being a child of Geralt's?

"It was remarkable, dear heart," Jaskier said breathlessly when Geralt helped him get off the horse. "Thank you so much!" And Jaskier couldn't bear it, he kissed Geralt's cheek. "I'm so very happy, Geralt, and all because of you." He beamed at Geralt and Geralt beamed at him. Only Jaskier would say so, although, because Jaskier knew what each and every  _ hmmm  _ of Geralt's meant. 

They drove back. Jaskier cooked lunch. Ciri had a long nap, and while she was asleep, Jaskier read and Geralt rubbed Jaskier's feet. 

Jaskier felt weird accepting any money from Geralt, so he refused his payment. Geralt was so confused he tried shoving the envelope into Jaskier's hands all the same.

"No, no, darling, listen!" Jaskier took Geralt's hands in his. "Listen, my beautiful heart, you don't need to pay me. I'm here because I want to. You don't need to answer, to say anything. Can I take care of you both? Because… because I love you and I love Ciri." 

Geralt grunted. Jaskier laughed and kissed his cheek. 

He didn't feel uncomfortable when Geralt avoided his company for a month afterwards. Well, he did miss Geralt's gazes and pensive  _ hmmm _ s but other than that, he was fine. 

***

Jaskier had a project he had been working very hard on, and finally he got all the necessary documents to move on with it. He told Geralt about it one late evening. 

He wanted to open a community centre that would have a kindergarten, a space for the elderly, and a space for neurodivergent people of all ages. It had taken Jaskier a year to secure funding and the building and appropriate counselling, but it was done. Ciri was to join his brand new kindergarten, as well as Dara. 

Jaskier spoke of it with such passion and devotion, Geralt had to share in his enthusiasm, but instead Geralt felt jealous - and had no idea how to say it to Jaskier. 

***

It was about three in the morning, and Jaskier's phone wouldn't stop buzzing, so he answered blindly. 

"Hey, that's Renfri. Yennefer is irritated and useless, Ciri has a fever and so does Geralt. He won't let us take care of either of them… Well, you know how he gets, all grumpy and shit… he's non-verbal, and Yen is angry about it…"

Jaskier cursed and rubbed his eyes. 

"Exactly," Renfri agreed easily. "Will you come?"

"On my way," Jaskier replied, swallowing a yawn the size of a planet. 

He rushed to Geralt's house. 

He had to shoo away both Yennefer and Renfri. 

Geralt was sitting on a sofa in the living room, clutching wailing Ciri close to his chest and staring at nothing with terrifying intensity. 

Jaskier touched Ciri's forehead and far more gingerly - Geralt's cheek.

"Love? Love, let's give her a cool shower. I'm going to prepare everything and you just come and sit there with her. It'll do you both good… Love? I'm here. It's Jaskier. You're alright, I've got you, I've got you forever."

Geralt silently leaned forward, into Jaskier's embrace. 

"It's alright, my love, it's fine, my beautiful darling, I'm here now, no noises, no questions, let's just take care of the little one, and once she's asleep I'll help you to get settled for the night, my love."

"She'll sleep with us," Geralt grunted, somewhat delusional. 

"Of course she will! She needs her dada close to her. She does." Jaskier ran his fingers through Geralt's white hair, wet and muffed. Geralt didn't smell nice, he had been sweating for hours - and it wasn't what Jaskier smelled. He smelled Geralt, his sweet, beautiful Geralt and their sweet feverish girl. 

Geralt sat with her under the cold shower, both dressed and sweating. Ciri calmed down almost instantly. Geralt held her carefully. Jaskier prepared a cup of hot milk with honey for Ciri and a cup of chamomile tea for Geralt, then returned to his lovely darlings. 

Geralt allowed him to take Ciri away. Jaskier dried her, gave her her milk and put her into Geralt's bed. It was unexpectedly soft, cozy, more of a nest than a bed. Once Ciri was asleep, clean and dry and cool, Jaskier returned to Geralt who was sitting under the cold water, rocking back and forth. 

"Love, come now, let's get you dry, ok?" Jaskier held out a towel. 

He had always dreamed of being rescued, being swept away, but there he was, taking care of a muscled man, much stronger than Jaskier could ever be, and in need of Jaskier's care. 

Jaskier held him tight, dried him, helped him into his pyjamas and made him drink his tea. "That's it, love. So good for me, so lovely. Lie down, love."

"You stay," Geralt demanded - then tried to get smaller and insignificant. "Please."

Jaskier felt rabid.

"Of course, love!" Jaskier assured him with confidence. "Why would I leave you?"

He undressed quickly and lay down next to Ciri and Geralt. 

He couldn't sleep, so he kept thinking. 

Geralt would never be able to say he loved Jaskier - and Jaskier was unexpectedly alright with it. 

Geralt would never court - conventionally. Yet Geralt lifted Jaskier on a horse, Geralt smiled at him. Geralt trusted Jaskier enough to let him take care of Ciri when both Geralt and Ciri were too feverish to be clear. 

Jaskier fell asleep thinking of those two turtlenecks he had seen the other day. Thought of his hand on the small of Geralt's back. Thought of burning down every insensitive prick. Thought of his passion project. Thought of a long and happy life, next to Geralt and Ciri. 

Jaskier was a happy man.

  
  
  



	3. Chapter 3

Jaskier woke up to Geralt's soft snores and Ciri's calmed breath. He felt incandescently happy, and equally grateful. 

"Good morning," he whispered to Ciri as she stirred and sought Geralt's embrace - and for sure those long, broad, ridiculously strong arms wrapped around the girl with sleepy resolve. 

"Good morning," Jaskier repeated when Ciri shifted again and sought him as well.

"Good morning," Jaskier breathed out when Geralt opened his eyes and found himself in a mess of hugs and limbs. He looked at Ciri, and moved his head to look at Jaskier, but got distracted or didn't really feel like it. Jaskier's heart soared with care and love. 

"No fever," Geralt concluded. 

"No fever," Jaskier beamed. He wanted to kiss Ciri and snog Geralt, but he didn't want to wake up Ciri or scare away Geralt, so he held his metaphorical horses. 

"Thank you." Geralt flinched. Jaskier knew it was too much for Geralt to admit being in need of someone else, so he tucked Geralt's hair behind his ear and smiled even wider. "My honour," Jaskier swore. "You two have been absolutely admirable."

Geralt grunted and turned away. 

Yen hated when he did that, but he couldn't stand it sometimes, most of the times, when someone was being affectionate to him. Jaskier chuckled behind him.

"What is it you do for living now?" Geralt asked. 

"I'm being a proper rich brat." Jaskier chuckled again. Ciri grumpily turned this way and that, before settling close to Geralt's wide back and sighing softly. "Come August, I'll start working. Had a few loose ends in Oxford, but bugger them, I'm a family man and a valuable member of the community."

"You have no family," Geralt remarked. It wasn't what he wanted to say, what he wanted to express, so he closed his eyes, prepared to hear a speech. 

"I don't, not right now, but I want to be… I feel like I do, when I'm with you and Ciri. You… do you like having me around, Geralt?" Jaskier asked. Geralt's back was panicking, having to face so much affection and care and acceptance, and as for Geralt's face… it was boiling. There were so many words in his head; he had lived long enough to know that no amount of his words could ever relay what he felt. So Geralt just shrugged and said:

"No. I don't care if you're around or not." 

Geralt shut his eyes. He heard Jaskier get up and walk to the kitchen. 

"Darling… love, look at me, and tell me, honestly, do you… do you want me to leave?"

Geralt felt Jaskier's cool fingers on his face, careful and caressing. 

"I… I…"

"Shhh, no words necessary, darling. Just… could you… try and tell me, in any way you find bearable, if I may… have a family with you?" 

Geralt tried to force himself to open his eyes, and for once, it didn't work. Nothing worked. His entire being was too lost, besides there was Ciri's warmth at his back, calming and calmed, real, grounding. 

Geralt thought he could nod. He wanted to - and couldn't. His mind was frantically searching for something, a sliver of something that might let Jaskier understand him…

"Breathe, my love. It's alright, it's fine. I just want… need to know if I'm welcome."

Jaskier briefly touched Geralt's forehead with his lips - cool and soft. 

"You… make the best…" Geralt flinched. "Make the best French toast. The right amount of bland and tasty… the right balance." Geralt managed. 

"I love you too, my dear heart," Jaskier replied - and was gone. He kept talking, of course, he always did. He talked about bread and butter, about milk and cinnamon, about sugar, about oil, about tea… Ciri stirred behind Geralt. 

"Dada?"

"I'm here, little cub, right here. You're feeling better?" Geralt carefully turned to face his daughter. She was wearing one of her cute pyjamas, all unicorns and rainbows, the kind Jaskier brought her every month… Yen and Triss bought her gender-neutral clothes, which were great and practical and gained much praise from Jaskier who could never buy anything other than bright and colourful. But Jaskier always encouraged Ciri to get dirty, so his gifts were incredibly impractical. Yen laughed at him, but Jaskier shrugged it off. 

And anyway, Ciri was wearing something soft and pink and lovely. 

"Better, dada. You feeling better too?" Ciri demanded.

"Much. Much better." Geralt nodded to drive the point home. 

"Papa took care of us," Ciri said, delighted. "Papa is love." Ciri giggled. Geralt was almost confident that Ciri wanted to say something else, but of course she was speaking the truth. 

"There you go, darlings!" Jaskier announced. He placed a tray on Ciri's lap and put the other one on Geralt's bedside table. "Some extra chocolate sauce for the little cub, so she feels better," he winked at Ciri who giggled again and got dirty in no time. 

"No eating in bed," Geralt grunted.

"I know, love, but I don't want either of you out of bed just now. I don't think it's right." Jaskier winked at Ciri.

Geralt sat up, got his tray with a plateful of French toast with just the right amount of sugar powder on top and a steaming cup of Earl Gray. 

"Now, don't be grumpy, my dears, because I'll make sure you eat plenty of vegetables for lunch!" Jaskier announced. 

Ciri wasn't going to be grumpy. She was chewing on her food and made a mess of Geralt's bed - but she seemed hungry, and therefore Geralt couldn't care less. He was hungry too, after all, and he even teased Jaskier about his own plate where maple syrup took over bread, nay, where the bread was just an excuse to eat more maple syrup.

"It's too sweet," Geralt said. He meant It's too sweet, it can't be healthy, I care about you, please don't leave me, please don't be sick, I love you. 

Jaskier smiled. 

"I know, dearest. It's sooooo good." 

Geralt bit into his breakfast so fiercely he might as well have caught it. 

Jaskier played with Ciri, took her for a walk, showed her future kindergarten and introduced her to a few members of his team. 

In the meantime Geralt stroked Roach's ears so hard Roach ran away from him. 

Jaskier and Ciri came home and ate lunch. No one bothered Geralt in his kingdom of doom and gloom. Geralt didn't like it. He wouldn't have liked being bothered either. It was just peculiar that no one tried to bother him. 


End file.
